Closing Time
by MJTR
Summary: Dante tries desperately to close up shop from the night, but ends up making small talk with two mysterious customers.


"Hey, you guys! You almost done back there? We're set to close!" The ever weary Dante Hicks called from behind the cash register. It had been another long day at the Quick Stop, taking heat from whoever decided to use him more as a therapist than a cashier and dealing with whatever the hell Randal had been doing, not the least of which telling him the boss could _not_ simply take that bag of Fritos out of his paycheck, and if he _did_ pay for everything he took, he'd never be able to make his rent.

As he yelled it the younger and shorter of the two in the back made his way up to the counter, his companion scanning the drink cooler for something and lingering there, a stereo sitting next to his feet. The younger one was a good looking twenty-something with shaggy brown hair and had a little smile on his face.

"My bud won't be back there too long," he reassured. "I think you're out of Yoo-hoo though. He's trying to find a replacement."

"Why doesn't he just get a chocolate milk?" Dante asked.

"Ehh, he tells me some kind of difference." He said.

"Well there isn't," Dante argued.

"Hear that shithead?" He called back. "Clerk just said there's no difference! How long I been telling you?"

"Piss off," the other one yelled. "I'll be up there in a minute."

Dante rolled his eyes, sighed and sank down from behind his counter. The younger man reached beside him and grabbed a roll of bubble tape and tearing off a piece, tossing it in his mouth.

"You gonna pay for that?" Dante asked, unamused.

"Course I am," he replied. "I wouldn't just open it in front of you if I wasn't."

"Yeah, well why don't you pay for it before you start eating it?" Dante stood up straighter and began pressing the numbers into the cash register.

The young man reached into his wallet before muttering, "Fuck…" Turning to the back of the store and yelling, "Hey, I need you to spot me!" His friend threw him his middle finger as he continued to scan the cold drinks. "He'll get it. We've been friends long enough."

"Whatever you say," Dante sighed, returning to his slumped stance.

"Hey, you mind if I ask you a question clerk?" The young man asked.

"Go ahead," Dante said.

"You just tired? Something wrong with your life? What's going on?"

Dante sighed and looked down even more. "Have you ever just… Hated your job more than anything?"

"Used to be every fucking day."

"I just don't know man… Does everybody hate their job in this country? Well they can't. Or they can't like me. Suicide rates are too fucking low."

"Ha! I hear ya man. No, I know exactly what you're talking about." He leaned against the counter as he continued at the jerky. "You come in, every fucking day, you get worked like a damn dog… And they say that's what you're _supposed_ to do. You're _supposed_ to suffer to pay your bills… That's a load of shit."

"When the hell did anyone teach me I was going to be a lapdog?" Dante asked, his resentment growing more fiery. "I'm a human fucking being, I deserve respect too! My boss doesn't hear any of this shit! My boss doesn't have to come clean up when some lady's kid shits in aisle four. And yet _I'm_ the one making minimum!"

"And you know what else? You're disposable to them. _You_, whom they rely on to do _their_ work, are disposable to _them_!" The young man ranted back.

Dante just looked down and sighed again, shaking his head. "Look, I hope I'm not coming off as some whiny bastard- I'm really not, I'm just so sick of all this… You ever felt like God's just not on your side?"

"Ah man, don't even get me started on God," the young man snarled. "Don't get me wrong, it all looks great on paper, it does, but what kinda guy gives you urges and won't let you wank, you know what I mean?"

"Hey, at least God's not going to fire me from living if he catches me with my pants down in the back," Dante offered in response. "My boss? He's fuckin' _end_ me… You know, if he was ever _here_ to know."

"That's the spirit," the man said, raising his hand, Dante high fiving him in the midst of the ranting and energy. "Fuck the man good sir, fuck the man."

"Fuck the man," Dante agreed. They were both quiet for a few seconds thereafter before Dante added, "But hey, God's not too keen on that either, huh?"

"Ah fuck that shit," the young man replied, pounding on the counter and looking Dante in the eyes, perhaps more heated than ever. "I'm sick of hearin' about that Sodom and Gomorrah shit! The fact that those cities were queerer than San Fran didn't have a fuckin' thing to do with it!"

"Uh… Passionate about this?" Dante asked.

"Fuck yeah I am. Nobody _ever_ interprets that thing right! They all think it was a buncha old world homos and that's why they got burned down- never fucking mind that they were a buncha orgy throwing rapists, never mind that they wanted to shove it up the ass of the two angels in the company- no, it's clearly because they were a bunch of cocksmokers! What a bunch of shit."

Dante opened his mouth to reply before the taller of the two finally came to the front, empty-handed.

"You didn't seriously just waste all our time standing back there and then not get anything did you?" The shorter one demanded.

"Out of Yoo-Hoo and out of Ginger Ale, what the hell do you think?" He asked.

The shorter man rolled his eyes and stuffed another piece of the gum in his mouth. "Whatever. Just pay the man and let's get outta here."

The taller one reached into his pocket and stopped short. "Uhh…"

"You forgot your fucking wallet at the hotel?!"

Dante would have been further dismayed by this, but was too distracted by the way the two were bickering. Suddenly the defense of Sodom and Gomorrah made a lot more sense.

"Look just… It's only a dollar… Okay?" Dante said. "Get outta here… Both of you, just don't worry about it."

The two looked at him for a moment before the taller one said, "Thank you… Thank you sir."

"Yeah yeah, can you just go so I can close up shop?"

After a few more thank yous Dante shooed them out of the store, sighing in exasperation as Randal walked in to round out the day.

"Damn, you look exhausted," he said.

"It's been a very, _very_ long day," Dante muttered. "And thankfully it's almost over… And tomorrow is a new day. I can get a little hockey in, spend some time with Veronica… Just try and forget all this shit."

"You hear Stan Lee was at the mall today?" Randal asked.

"Yeah, I still can't believe I was stuck here."

As the two went back and forth on their days, preparing to finally close up shop, the two men who had made small talk with Dante stood outside, about to make their way for the bus stop when a different two made their way over. The lanky blonde Jay, and the ever-quiet Silent Bob.

"Dude, sick fuckin' stereo," Jay said with an approving nod.

"Hm? Oh, hey thanks," the taller one said.

"What do you want for it?" Jay asked.

"What you mean sell it?" The shorter asked. "We're not looking to sell it."

"How about a bet?" Jay asked.

"A bet for our stereo?" The taller one asked.

"Are you fuckin' deaf or somethin' yeah!

"Okay… What are we doing and what are you betting?" The tall man asked, humoring him.

"We'll wager eight rolls," he elbowed Silent Bob, who reached into his pocket and revealed a large plastic bag full of rolled marijuana, "Of our finest Indian Hay."

The short one looked at his companion. "I forget… Can we do that?"

"God gave John cannabis before he wrote Revelations... I think we're okay," the taller one confirmed.

"So what are we doing?"

"Gimmie half of that bubble tape," Jay insisted. "I'll bet I can blow twice what you can."

"You're kidding," the shorter man muttered. "That's fucking stupid, you can't blow that much gum at once."

"Ooohh, scared little man aren't you?" Jay mocked. "Guess we'll just be keeping all this fine kick stick to ourselves mother fucker!"

The two looked at one another for another moment before the shorter one pointed at Jay, "Alright asshole, here's a better idea," he shoved the gum into Jay's hands. "_You_ blow a bubble with all this. If you can, you can have our radio."

Fast as he could Jay shoved the whole role of tape into his mouth. Undeterred by the six feet of candy, Jay chewed and chewed before, with a long breath, he produced a bubble. The two stood in disgusted fear as it anti-climactically popped.

"Ha! Eat it cocksmoker!" Jay mocked.

The two bitterly surrendered their stereo and marched off, the taller swearing that if he _ever_ returned to New Jersey he was going to kill someone.

"Stupid mother fucker," Jay laughed as he spat the gum into his hand. "Tomorrow is gonna be one hell of a day- HEY CLERK!"

Dante turned in annoyance to Jay as he shouted towards him.

"Tomorrow is gonna be one hell of a day!" Without second thought, Jay mashed the six feet of gum down just in front of the Quick Stop's window, the night too dark for Dante to notice.

"Yeah," Dante said, "One hell of a day."


End file.
